Cockatiel in alcohol ink on marker paper

I mentioned my kid was a good artist, right?

Talented

Both of my parents were artists, whether they got paid for it or not. My dad earned extra money doing lettering and pinstriping on boat transoms, and he was an avid carver when he was retired. My mom taught watercolor classes and could have sold her own work, if she had the interest. Dad could build furniture; Mom could make kick-ass Halloween costumes.

I inherited the interest, but not the grit required to practice something until I was really good at it. I can’t draw or paint, and my furniture-building skills only look good if the furniture in question is on a stage and the audience is pretty far away. I’m good at copying things, and I’m good at following directions, which is why the needle arts have always come easily to me. My knitting and crochet may not always be beautiful, but it’s generally RIGHT, even if I had to fudge a few things to get there.

When Liza started showing interest in art, I did everything I could to support her. Supplies, lessons, attention, dedicated space for her to work ... look back through the blog, it’s all there. And to my surprise, she’s kept at it, even when things weren’t working out to her satisfaction. She’s putting in the hours, and it shows.

My dad passed away before he really had a chance to see Liza’s talent bloom, but my mother stuck around long enough to see the first flowers. She was always so proud of Liza’s work, always happy to have her art on the fridge or in a frame. They did some projects together, back before Mom got sick, and I wish they had been able to do a lot more. My mom would have been so proud to see how much Liza has improved in the last year.

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuude, this is awesome

For more details on just why this is so awesome, you'll have to visit the other blog.

She's got it bad

At breakfast this morning:

Liza: 'Lewis and I are at 14. When we've sat next to each other 16 times on the carpet, then we're boyfriend and girlfriend.'

Me: Does Lewis know he's almost your boyfriend? 

Liza: 'No, he hasn't heard the love song I made up for him yet.'

While working on a sketch this afternoon:

And when we were at school today for parent-teacher conferences we noticed that the class had posted pictures of the pumpkins they designed, along with little profiles about each of them.  Lewis's pumpkin "likes to play with Liza."  Of course, there were no fewer than half a dozen pumpkins named after Lewis, so apparently he's a popular guy.

I swear, it's like watching a telenovela or something, and they're only five.

Time to start teaching her German and looking into Lutheran convents.

The yellow fabric appears again.

First I used to to make curtains for our kitchen in Kentucky.

Then I used it to make curtains for our kitchen in Ohio.

And today, when I wanted to use some fabric I made out of one of Liza's drawings, I pulled the yellow fabric out again. Because it's apparently just not a kitchen without some of this nearby:

You can find instructions on my other blog here.

Ten signs that the apocalypse* is upon us

1. Liza is at a play date with the girl down the street. I'm at home. By myself. Getting work done. By myself. Did I mention there's no one else home besides me? (cue choir of angels)
2. Last week Liza volunteered to go to the kid's club at the grocery store to hang out while I did the grocery shopping. She stayed there the whole time and was sad to go when I was done. (cue a larger choir of angels)
3. I'm typing a blog post while sitting in the sun on my couch. So THIS is why I paid the extra to avoid getting another desktop machine ...
4. I successfully gave my daughter a French braid yesterday. This is notable because a) her hair is long enough, b) she stood still while I tugged on her hair for 10 minutes, c) it stayed in all day and gave her beautiful waves when we took it out last night, and d) before yesterday I'd never managed to French braid anyone's hair but my own and have it stay in for more than 3 seconds.
5. My daughter managed to embroider this with only minor assistance from me. You can read more about it here.
   
   
6. I bought seed-starting supplies this weekend. I guess I need to sit down and calculate the best planting date based on our last frost prediction (May! We have the chance of hard frosts until May!), lest I end up with an egg carton full of seedlings and a glacier in the back yard.
7. I've finally started stocking my new etsy store, G Sees. Go forth and buy 5x7s!
8. We bought a weeping pussy willow tree from the grocery store last week, and we haven't managed to knock it over, pull off all the catkins, drown it, starve it, or otherwise permanently damage it (yet). It's happy and leafy and weepy and fuzzy and pollen-y and I lurrrrrrve it.
9. The snow in our front yard is almost entirely gone. There is, however, still a solid 6" of snow on our entire back yard, should we decide it's necessary to make another snowman.
10. We have the first flowers of anyone in our neighborhood. I cannot tell you how happy these make me every time I see them.

* or spring, it could be spring instead of the apocalypse. Hard to tell, really.

The Bear and the Rabbit, by Liza Woods

(Liza drew the pictures, did the title page, and narrated the story; I wrote down what she told me so it didn't take 6 months to complete a book)

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Guess who bought a printer/scanner on Black Friday?

... and finally figured out how to use the scanner after the fifth failed installation attempt?

"Best Piece of Art Liza Ever Made," by Liza Woods, 2009